Den of Iniquity
by coffeeandcas
Summary: Dean and Cas try the whole strip club thing again. Things don't quite go as Dean planned...


"Dean?"

"Cas, his name is Cas."

"Dean,"

"And he'll have what I'm having. Make it a double. And a couple of shots each, too. Thank you, sweetheart."

"Dean!"

Cas' tugging on his friend's arm becomes more urgent, and Dean sighs and turns to the angel in mock exasperation.

"I know, you've said it all already. You shouldn't be here, 'den of inequality' or whatever, but you need to relax, man. Just chill, for one night. We're going to have fun."

"Iniquity, Dean, not inequality. And no, I don't feel like I should be here, it's all very…" Cas glances around him, shoulders rigid and tense, looking more discomfited than Dean has seen him in a long time. "Well, I don't find the environment to be very…pleasing."

A waitress in a glittering bikini walks past them with a tray of drinks, sending Cas a flirty smile as she does, and the angel blushes a deep shade of crimson. Dean laughs and claps him on the back.

"It's OK, buddy. It won't be as bad as the first time; just try not to talk to the dancers too much and you'll be fine. Let's find a seat."

They tuck themselves away in a booth at the back of the strip club, and for a while Dean just watches the dancers mill around, all of them beautiful and flirty and clad in the most revealing of clothing, and makes small-talk with Cas who would clearly rather be anywhere else but here. Dean had convinced him to lose the trench coat and put on something else, and had been pleasantly surprised when Cas walked out of his bunker in the bedroom in jeans, his white shirt and suit jacket. He was hiding a solid physique under that ugly coat, and Dean made a mental note to hide it from him when they got home. A body that good shouldn't be hidden away under unflattering clothing. The club is dark and sultry with tacky mood lighting, and the whole place smells of beer and cheap perfume. There are a few patrons lurking in nearby booths and a handful of guys twice their age propping up the bar. It probably wouldn't be Dean's first choice for a strip club to take Cas to, but the town they were in held precious little to choose from for entertainment. It was this or a bingo hall and the hunter doesn't have the patience to try to explain bingo to an angel. Cas would take it all way too seriously.

Cas drinks quickly, to calm his nerves, and signals the waiter for another round. Dean is still on his first rum and coke, but joins Cas in downing their shots. After a while, a blonde with bouncing curls and an ass to die for saunters over to Dean and they share a whispered conversation. Cas watches them warily, reminded of the last time Dean conversed with a stripper in his presence. It hadn't ended well. Then another girl materialises and runs her hand gently over Cas' shoulder and the angel jerks in shock.

"Hey, it's OK handsome, I don't bite. Unless you tell me to." She winks prettily and Cas appreciates how beautiful she is. Streaming red hair, pale skin, legs go on forever, and a glittering cropped top barely covering her chest. "I'm Hannah. Shall we go somewhere more…private?"

He's powerless to resist when she takes his hand and leads him out of the room, after Dean and the blonde who he's sure called herself Chantelle, and they end up in a back room together, the angel and his hunter in chairs side by side and the girls whispering together in the corner and trading secretive smiles. Music with a low, pounding bass beat is turned up and Cas shifts awkwardly, casting a desperate look towards Dean, seeking reassurance. Dean isn't paying any attention to him any more: his sole focus is on the beautiful women who he has clearly requested two lap dances from. Hannah gives Cas a reassuring smile and slides into his lap, whispering something into his ear and the angel relaxes minutely. Chantelle approaches Dean, looking much more predatory with a sinful smile, and Dean leans back in his chair. Chantelle does a lazy striptease for him before settling in his lap, and Dean relaxes back to enjoy.

There's a small thud from somewhere next to him, and Dean glances over to see that Cas' hand has landed, palm up, on the table between them. He's staring at the dancer with a strange mix of rapture and horror, and it's the discomfort in his expression that makes Dean do what he does next. He reaches across the table and takes Cas' hand in his - the angel jumps a mile and stares at Dean with the wide-eyed, worried look he wore last time they ventured into such an establishment. Dean huffs out a laugh and squeezes Cas' fingers.

"Relax, man, she ain't gonna bite you."

He starts to let go, but Cas grips his fingers like a vice, and before Dean can pull away his own dancer climbs into his lap and his attention is taken. Chantelle is stunning, and knows how to work Dean up just right. The place isn't as strict as the other strip clubs he's frequented, and touching (with the consent of the dancer) is accepted here. Dean strokes the soft skin of her thighs and watches as she moves in his lap to the beat of the music.

The song ebbs and flows, changing to another then a third, and Dean is in heaven. His eyes are half closed, watching Chantelle with a dreamy, aroused smile, and Cas' hand is warm and firm in his. He remembers that his best friend is experiencing his first lap dance ever, and turns to see how he's enjoying it.

Bright, sultry blue eyes stare straight into his and Dean's breath catches in his throat. Cas isn't watching Hannah: he's watching Dean, panting gently with enjoyment as the redhead grinds in his lap and kisses his neck. They watch each other for a while, still holding hands, until the song changes and Cas shifts, clearly aroused.

Hannah doesn't seem too concerned with the fact that her client's attention is clearly elsewhere: she grinds and undulates in the angel's lap all the same, but the girl in Dean's lap is clearly the jealous type. She takes hold of Dean's free hand and brings it up to cup her breast: Dean breaks his little staring match with Cas at this point and focuses instead on the beautiful woman in his lap, who is gazing down at him with a sultry smirk. In that moment, as he starts to massage her naked breast with experienced fingers, he decides to put on a show for Cas. He knows the angel is still watching him, his fingers tight around Dean's, and Dean is a bit of an exhibitionist when the cards are down. The blonde smirks in understanding and tosses her head back, allowing Dean to caress and massage her skin as she grinds in his lap, and next to them Cas draws in a sharp breath. Dean side-eyes him and bites back a grin of satisfaction. Cas it totally captivated by them, but at the same time is arching gently into the dancer on his lap who has leaned down to kiss his neck and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. His blue eyes are dark and sultry and he's panting a little: he looks fucking gorgeous and Dean has to avert his eyes before he gets drawn into that beautiful gaze. He focuses on the Chantelle as she rocks in his lap and drags his hand down to the front of her glittering thong. She presses Dean's fingers to just where he knows her clit is and he starts to massage her. He heard Cas whine and turns to look at him: he's leaning his head back against the chair but still fixated on Dean, watching his face, and he looks utterly sex-drenched. His hair is a mess, and as Hannah winds her hands into it Cas whimpers, low in his throat, and grips her hip with his free hand, his eyes falling shut. Dean stills for a moment, feeling Cas' fingers grip his as his hand shakes, and realisation dawns on him. Cas is coming. Hannah is kissing his jaw and coaxing him through it, and jealousy sparks inside Dean. He squeezes Cas' hand in response and the angel lets out a shaky breath and opens his eyes to stare straight back at Dean, exhausted and sated.

Hannah climbs off Cas and dresses, sending him flirty smiles all the way which the angel lazily returns. Chantelle follows her lead, leaving Dean tense and frustrated. He had been so focused on Castiel that he hadn't realised the song had come to an end. The girls send flirtatious, pleased glances in their directions, and Cas manages to raise the hand not holding Dean's to wave at them as they leave.

A silence settles between them as Cas shifts awkwardly, then he casts a quick glance over to his friend, a pretty blush staining his cheeks. The next words out of his mouth make Dean's cheeks then a matching shade.

"Dean…you didn't achieve orgasm, did you?"

"What? Cas…no. It's fine. Let's go."

Dean moves to yank his hand from the angel's, uncomfortable with the sudden scrutiny and the strange look in the bright blue eyes, when something happens. Cas brushes a thumb over Dean's knuckles, and heat immediately pools in Dean's groin; it's so sudden and intense that he lets out a gasp of shock.

"Cas, what the hell are you-"

Dean cuts himself off with a broken whine as a rolling wave of pleasure hits him again, and he arches his back in delight. Panting with the sudden onslaught, he turns his head to look at Cas and sees his friend watching him with such intensity that Dean fears they might both burst into flames. Cas' eyes are glowing; not in the electric way they do when he's powering up his grace, but they are just a little bluer than normal, which clues Dean in to exactly what his angelic friend is doing. He can almost feel Cas' grace pulse through him in tiny electrified currents, straight to his groin. He squirms and undulates his hips helplessly, watching Cas watch him with parted lips. It's so startlingly intimate, despite the fact that the only touch they share is their linked fingers, and the hunter is thrown by it. He knows he could easily yank his hand away, break their connection and walk out of here leaving Cas to find his own way home; but damned if he's going to do that. It just feels too damn good, and they're not actually _doing_ anything together. Not really… But he doesn't have long to contemplate what it all means: another throb of pleasure courses through him and he whines with need. He throws his head back against the chair as another pulse of ecstasy flows through him.

"Cas…fuck, Cas…"

The angel's name is leaving Dean's lips in a litany of broken moans as Cas drags him firmly towards the edge, with the clear intention of throwing him over into the throes of what Dean knows will be a shattering orgasm. He can't keep still, arching and writhing in the chair, pushing up against nothing but feeling pulsing waves of pleasure anyway. His cock is aching and leaking beneath his clothing and he longs to touch himself, but denies himself the relief: what Cas is doing to him feels too incredible. He's gripping Cas' hand so tightly that his nails are cutting in, and when he chances a look at his angelic friend his mouth goes dry and he forgets to breathe for a second.

Cas looks completely wrung out from watching Dean, panting slightly through parted lips, and his brow furrowed in slight confusion, as though he isn't sure why he's finding the sight so intriguing. Their eyes lock, and Dean is powerless to look away; he feels like Cas is staring right into his soul. Cas' hair is messed up from the dancer's roving fingers, and his suit is all dishevelled. He looks like he's just come out the other end of an intense make-out session, and Dean feels a strange spark of jealousy at the fact that it was someone else, and not him, who has made his angel look this way. His angel.

 _His_ angel…

His eyes fall closed again as Cas caresses his hand and amps up the stimulation. His grace flows through Dean straight to his leaking cock, making it throb with need and he groans, low in his throat. He doesn't care what he looks like right now: sweat-drenched and panting, his free hand gripping the arm of the chair so tightly just so he has something to ground himself. He knows his skin will be flushed and his artfully-styled hair probably a total mess. Then, and he's not sure if he imagines is or not, but right next to the shell of his ear, as though Cas has read his mind, a rough voice whispers, 'You're beautiful, Dean.'

Then, in a rush of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, Cas shoves him over the edge. A tidal wave of pleasure crashes over Dean, swamping him, dragging him under. Dean arches almost painfully, his balls draw tight to his body, and every muscle clenches in uncontrollable pleasure. Then he's coming, his vision going white as he thrashes, coming completely untouched in his underwear from nothing but the look in Cas' eyes and the pulse of his grace flowing through him. Dean writhes, both to chase the incredible ecstasy and to get away from it because it's so intense he can barely breathe. He can feel wetness spreading in his lap, and arches again as an aftershock pulses through him, drawing another spurt of come from his throbbing, needy cock.

"Fuck…fuck, oh god, Cas…"

Cas squeezes Dean's hand gently as he starts to come down from his high, still feeling shivers of pleasure rock through him. He somehow manages to drag his eyes open and focus on his angel, who is watching him with a soft, unreadable expression.

"That was…" Dean flounders for words, peeling his fingers away from the chair arm to run a shaky hand through his own hair.

"Enjoyable?"

"Yes…that's one word for it." Dean tries to catch his breath, staring into the depth of Cas' bright blue eyes with a gentle realisation that something has changed between them tonight. Something good. He's always felt comfortable with Castiel, knows that the angel would be there for him no matter what, but now something is different. He feels wanted, body and soul, for the first time in as long as he can remember. Cas smiles at him, brings Dean's hand up to his lips and presses the gentlest of kisses to his knuckles before standing and finally, regretfully, releasing his grip and moving away. Dean shifts, about to consider his options for cleaning up, but at some point in the last few minutes Cas must have used his grace to wipe Dean's clothing clean of his cooling come, and for that the hunter is grateful. He didn't fancy walking out through the club more bow-legged than normal, searching in embarrassment for the bathroom.

"Dean? Are you ready to go?"

"Yes. And…Cas?"

"Yes?"

Dean wants to say thank you, but feels it an odd sentiment to share with someone after being brought to orgasm. So he settles for putting all his gratitude and affection into a smile, and knows Cas gets it when the angel's eyes crease at the corners and his lips twitch just a little.

"Come on, Dean."

Their fingers brush as they walk out of the club, definitely no accident, and somehow they end up walking the couple of miles home hand-in-hand.


End file.
